Redneck Charm
by Fred Weasley's Forever
Summary: A psychologist from Texas is thrown forcefully into the zombie apocalypse when she visits her parents in Georgia. Who will she befriend in the ragtag group of survivors she finds in the outskirts of Atlanta? A Daryl/OC story
1. Prologue

"Mom, where's the peanut butter?" I yelled from the kitchen, tearing through the pantry, desperately searching for the sandy brown substance that would make my dreams come true. (Okay, so I'm a little obsessed with peanut butter)

There was no answer. The house was completely silent. My dad, brother and sister had gone into town to meet up with one of my dad's friends, so it was just me and my mom for a little while.

"Mom?" I called again, turning around and shutting the cabinet door. After listening for any noise in the house and hearing none, I shrugged and turned back to my search.

Back in my home in Texas, I kept 4 jars of peanut butter in the kitchen cabinets at all times. When I was 18, my parents had decided to move out of our old home back in Texas and move here to the small town of Grayson, Georgia. I was legally old enough to live on my own, so I re-bought the old house I used to live in and still lived there. I'm 24 and have been out of college for about a year. I finally got my doctors degree in psychology. I wanted to be a psychiatrist, but there wasn't much of a high demand for those recently. So I just did odd jobs I could find like part-time cashiering at Wal-mart, babysitting for friends, and even the random house-call for psycho-analysis.

_5 minutes and still no peanut butter _I grumbled internally. I sighed and closed the cabinet door once more, felling my heart sink. I really needed some peanut butter.

When I turned, the last thing I expected to see was my mother, the whites of her eyes blood red. But, the green part of them could still be seen bright against their terrifying background. Her hair was matted and for some reason there was a little bit of blood dripping out of the corner of her mouth. Her skin was pale and looked clammy. She seemed to be limping.

"Mom?" I asked, staring at her curiously, my brows drawing together in confusion.

Sure she was sick, but geez she looked terrible.

"Mom, come on, we need to get you to a doctor," I said urgently, stepping forward and eyeing the blood on the side of her mouth. I staggered backward a step when she growled, a frightening, guttural sound from deep within her throat, and snapped her teeth at me, causing more blood to spill out over her lips. "Mom!" I yelled.

She continued stumbling forward, gnashing her teeth with a sickening squelching sound. And I continued to back away, fearful. I felt my back hit the kitchen sink and felt around behind me for something, anything. I felt my hand hit something that felt like silverware, so I gripped it and held it up, like I was holding her at knife-point. Unfortunately enough, it was a spoon (the least dangerous item in the silverware world) and didn't do anything.

I looked to the opposite corner of the kitchen beside the big white fridge. In that drawer, there were knives and lots of them. I dashed over to it, ducking under my mother's loosely flailing arms.

She stumbled headlong into the counter I had previously been cornered into.

I threw open the drawer and grabbed the biggest knife I could find. I spun around, holding the knife up threateningly.

My mom's eyes were trained on me, though and in her eyes I didn't see any recognition, any registration of the danger of being at knife-point. Just a deep blankness that I will never forget.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. "Oh shit…"


	2. Saved

I jolted awake. The sleeping bag over me rustled with my sudden movement. I gazed around the interior of the tent for a moment before my breathing slowed.

My little brother was breathing slow and steady in his sleep beside me. I smiled sadly over at him. The seventeen year old boy had to grow up faster than anyone should in the week since the zombie invasion started.

A cracking branch from outside the tent made me snap up, ramrod straight. I grabbed my gun and began to hesitantly crawl to the opening to the tent, careful to be quiet.

The walkers were always more rambunctious at night, which made for an intense dislike of nighttime in almost any human's mind.

I poked the tip of the barrel of the shotgun out of the small opened corner in the bottom of the zipped up flap. I held my breath as I looked around for any sign of non-life. Sure enough, there was a walker a few yards away, just stumbling. I pulled the gun back inside and sat down, trying to keep my breathing even.

If we just sat here, soon enough he'd smell us and come for us anyway. It was nearly dawn.

"Deeno," I whispered urgently, shaking him a little.

"Wha-" I put a hand over his mouth and put one finger to my own then pointed to the tent door. He nodded and I took my hand away from his mouth.

We each grabbed our bags and our only guns, the shotgun in my hand and the pistol he always carried. There was no telling when we'd be back here if ever. There could be more of those things with this one and even if not, if we had to shoot it, more would hear the gunshot and come for us.

I went first, my backpack strapped on my back with both straps and closed tightly shut so nothing would fall out. I opened the tent flap and shot at the stumbling figure, the sound of my firing gun resounding off the trees in the forest.

"Go!" I yelled to Deeno as I ran toward the high way we had gone across to get here.

He ran right beside me, never running ahead or falling behind. I could hear moans and the footsteps of tons of the undead behind us. I was afraid to look back, but Deeno didn't share that fear.

"Sweet Jesus," he breathed.

"Keep running," I yelled at him.

He turned back around and kept right up with me.

My chest was hurting from breathing so hard and running so fast. My legs ached and I wished I could stop, but I knew I couldn't.

I spotted the tree line and heard voices beyond it. Not the grumbling and moaning of the zombies around us, but actual voices.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Hey! Help!"

Only a few feet between us and the tree line now. We burst through to see a large group of people with their guns trained on us.

"Here they come!" one of the men yelled. "Daryl, Glenn, get those two!"

A man with a dark shirt with ripped off sleeves came forward and grabbed me around the waist when I ran toward him. He was helping us, at the moment I didn't care who he was. A young-looking Asian boy came forward to lead Deeno over to their group.

"C'mon," the man holding me said close to my ear. I tried to walk on my own but I stumbled a few times before we made it up the hill to the rest of the group.

"Everybody in the vehicles!" the man from before yelled when Deeno and I made it over.

The redneck-looking man that was carrying me over still had his arms around my waist. I cocked a brow at him and he released his hold on me as if as an afterthought.

"Righ' sorry."

Was he blushing? Whatever, now was NOT the time.

The walkers were pouring out of the forest.

"Glenn, you and him follow me!" The man beside me called to the Asian boy. Then he looked to me. "Come on. This way."

I nodded, casting a glance at the forest. There were tons of them. Hundreds maybe.

He led us to an old pickup with the paint coming off around the edges. I got into the passenger's seat, Glenn and Deeno hopped up onto the truck bed, and the hillbilly drove. We speed away in a caravan style procession, leaving the highway as far behind as we could.

Those things were still following after us, that much we could see in the rear-view mirror. But, after a few minutes of going the opposite direction of the horde, they were no longer in sight. I finally breathed a sigh of relief when the last of them faded into a black spot on the horizon.

"What were ya doin' out there?" the man asked. His voice surprised me. I had almost forgotten he was there.

"Camping," I responded shortly, not turning from looking out of the back window.

"Hey, I didn't mean nothin' by it. I's just wonderin' that's all." He said, still focusing on the road ahead of him.

"We were just trying to survive. Ended up there," I explained, turning back to face the front of the truck. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nod. I felt a little bad for snapping at him, so I cleared my throat and tried to be a bit friendlier. "So, what's your name?"

He turned to give me a curious look. "Dixon. Daryl Dixon."

I almost laughed at his southern drawl, but it suited him and I figured that would be pretty rude.

"Joanne Reels. I always hated my name." I shook my head and looked out of the window, watching the RV in front of us swerve the potholes the city hadn't gotten around to fixing (wonder why).

"Got a nickname, then?" he asked, still staring straight ahead.

I thought about it and smiled a small little grin with the side of my mouth. "My dad used to call me Jojo."

He chuckled beside me and I looked up, startled. He seemed like the hard-ass hillbilly with a temper. I didn't figure him for the chuckling type.

"Jojo it is then." I nodded and turned to look at the landscape passing by us.

It was a dead world we now lived in. No one and nothing was safe anymore.

I leaned my forehead against the window pane and tried to get my mind off of the morbid and focus on the blurred trees and road signs we passed. Needless to say, I got bored pretty fast and fell asleep.


	3. For the Sake of a First Impression

I woke up to Deeno shaking my shoulder. For a moment I thought I was back at home and Deeno was waking me up to tell me mom was making pancakes and dad was outside working on the house with our sister, June, being overly helpful just as her 12 year old stage of existence required. But when I opened my eyes and saw Deeno with a few blood smears crusted onto his cheek, sweat stained into his green shirt and his hair a dirty, disheveled mess, everything that had transpired in the past week came back to me in a cacophony of terrible images, haunting sounds, and memories that would always be burned into my mind.

I impulsively grabbed Deeno around the shoulders and pulled him to me, hugging him tightly. In this new world, my baby brother might be taken away from me at any moment. A few tears slid down the side of my face.

"You know mom would kill you if she saw how messy your hair was." I laughed.

He hugged me back and I heard him whisper, "Yeah."

When we pulled apart, I patted his cheek and he gave me a bittersweet smile that made me want to break down all over again. But I knew I couldn't. I had to be strong for him.

Daryl coughed. I had forgotten he was there. I looked over to see him pointedly turning his attention away from us. He looked like he felt pretty awkward.

The Asian boy was outside the truck, in front of it talking to an old man in a bucket hat and a Hawaiian shirt.

I hopped down out of the truck and examined our surroundings. We were stopped in the middle of a road to nowhere. There was only one house that could be seen far off in the distance and the rest of the landscape around us was waist-high yellowed corn stalks. There were a few telephone poles with wires strung between them, but other than that, the landscape was completely bare.

I stretched my arms out and yawned.

"And who is this?" the old man asked, smiling at me and Deeno and coming forward.

"Jojo," I said, holding out my hand.

"Call me Dale." He shook my hand firmly and moved to Deeno.

I turned and saw Daryl smirking at me.

"What?" I asked, walking toward where he was leaning out of the drivers' side door.

"Nothin'. Just that name's all." I was unsure of what he meant, but I didn't get a chance to ask before Deeno came up behind me and put an arm around my shoulders.

"Umm, Daryl, this is my little brother Deeno. Deeno, this is Daryl." I said, gesturing between the two.

They merely nodded at each other.

"I'm Glenn," said a voice from behind me. I turned along with Deeno to see the little Asian boy.

"Hi," I smiled and shook his hand. "I'm Jojo, his sister." I pointed up at Deeno.

"Oh, I know," he said. "He told me all about how y'all made it out there. I'm sorry about your family."

I gave Glenn a sad smile and muttered a "thanks."

"Alright everybody!" I heard a familiar voice shout out. It was the man in charge from last night.

Everybody started moving toward the front of the RV. The man in charge was a police chief it seemed. When Deeno and I came forward, he smiled at us and began talking, "We've got two new members. Why don't you two come over here."

We came toward him, feeling nervous with all the eyes on us. Which was stupid. The world had gone to hell and I was still afraid of public speaking?

"Could you give us your names?" the policeman asked.

Deeno started before I could, thankfully. I stutter a lot under pressure.

"I'm Deeno, and my sister is Jojo."

I was glad he picked up on the fact that I was going with the nickname my father had given me instead of my lame real name.

"I'm Rick," the police officer said, shaking our hands. "Everybody come introduce yourselves."

Everyone converged on us and I started feeling a bit claustrophobic. I stumbled over to the outside of the crowd of people surrounding Deeno. He was far more sociable than me. I ran into Rick in my hasty getaway.

"Sorry," I said, seeing that I had interrupted what seemed to be a heated conversation between he and Daryl.

"Oh, no its fine," he said, turning completely away from Daryl who merely scowled and slammed his door shut as he walked toward the back of his truck. "I hope Daryl didn't give you too much trouble." He sounded like he truly meant it.

I was shocked. How could he have given me any trouble? He was nothing but nice to me for the whole ride… or at least the parts I was awake for. "No, he was perfectly nice." I said, earning myself a look of disbelief.

"You… are you bein' serious?" he asked, a sincerely confused look on his face.

I nodded. "Why?"

He took a moment to think before saying, "He just usually is the sort to kick up a fuss about every little thing and start fights with anyone just because the wind didn't blow the right way."

Huh…

"Well, that's odd, he seemed like a really nice guy." I frowned.

"Well, be careful," he said, patting me on the shoulder and heading back to the group.

I looked back to the group who were now setting about various tasks. Then I turned my attention to Daryl, sitting on the open tailgate of the pickup.

I sighed and walked around the truck. His face was smeared with dirt and blood and sweat and his hair was sticking up in odd places. I sat up next to him on the tailgate, watching as he scoured the landscape for any shambling, moaning beasts that might have still been following us or just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. Luckily there were none. He held a crossbow in his lap, finger on the trigger, bow drawn and cocked.

"What'ya want?" he asked, eyes narrowed as he searched the scene before him for anything out of place. His tone was a little more harsh than I was used to.

"Nothing, I guess. I just- umm…" I wasn't really sure what it was I did want. Maybe just company.

"Well? Spit it out woman."

My jaw dropped.

"Nothing I guess. Never mind. Bye." I hopped down from the tailgate and made my way over to the group of others. I frowned down at the ground, kicking small pebbles as I walked.

Maybe Rick was right about Daryl. But then again, maybe not. Maybe Daryl had just been in a bad sort of mood because he had overheard Rick talking to me. But then again, if that was his normal behavior, then maybe he had just been in a very good mood on the ride here.

I frowned deeper and kicked at another rock.


	4. Boulevard of Broken Dreams

DARYL'S POV:

So maybe I was being nice to her. So maybe I went back on that and was planning on going back to my normal ass-hole of a man. Maybe if Rick hadn't said anything, I would've continued being as nice as could be.

This zombie apocalypse had turned me hard. The only emotion I could ever afford to show nowadays was anger and just the smallest bit of concern for my own skin. But sometimes I couldn't get a handle on them and the true Daryl leaked out, showing a little bit of kindness. The apocalypse had ruined me.

No. If I was being completely honest to myself, it was Merle. He was the reason I was this way.

So why had I shown my true colors to that girl? Hell if I know. Maybe I just wanted to stop pretending for a minute. Maybe I wanted someone to see the real me. Maybe I just wanted her to like me.

I shook my head in disgust.

I heard my brother's voice in the back of my head, chiding me on my petty thoughts. "_What's this? Daryl Dixon crushin' on some girly like we's in high school 'gain? Hoooweee! 'ats a good one!_"

I wasn't crushin' on her. Sure she was kinda pretty, but I was a grown man. I didn't crush. And on top of that, we were in the middle of the end of the world. I didn't have time to have crushes.

I sighed and cast a glance back toward the rest of the group. Everyone was scattered about, picking things up off the ground, cleaning guns, some were just standing around making conversation like it wasn't the end of the world.

I spotted her long black hair as she turned toward Rick and Shane. They must've been catching her up to speed on everything that had gone down back in Atlanta… Back where my brother was likely still ducking around corners, slinking down alleys, and trying at all costs not to get eaten. All without the aid of his left hand.

Shane looked up and caught me watching her. He glared at me, but did nothing else.

I turned my head, scowling down at my boots.

Damn cowboy cop.

JOJO'S POV:

Rick and Shane told me all about the camp back on the trail outside Atlanta and what had happened with Daryl's brother Merle (including the rescue mission afterwards). I couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be left there, chained to a roof with walkers all around the building. My stomach rolled at the thought.

"Daryl's still a bit put out with us for that one," Rick explained, looking down sheepishly.

I cast a worried glance back at the dirt stained man on the tailgate of a pickup truck. Poor thing.

He squinted out onto the horizon and spit onto the ground.

I turned back to Rick and Shane who were also looking at Daryl.

"Might want to be careful around him," Shane advised, narrowing his eyes at the crossbow-slinging hillbilly. "He might've made you think he was all good and friendly, but he might'a just been tryin' to, uhh…" he paused awkwardly and went a different direction with his safety speech. "He's got a short fuse and his dynamite is 100% napalm."

I nodded, not intending to just keep my distance like he was some disease. Not after what he had been through with his brother. If that had happened to Deeno…

It seemed like all these other survivors tried to stay as far from him as possible. But that wasn't how I worked. Besides, I didn't like being around lots of people. If he was like a social deterrent, he was just the person for me to befriend.

"Let's head out." Rick clapped a hand on Shane's shoulder and began to call out for the others to begin loading the vehicles.

"You can come and ride with them in the RV, if you want, with your brother and the others," Shane said, eyeing Daryl with frown on his face.

I nodded and went to find Deeno.

Daryl caught my eye when I was walking around the back of the RV to go to the door of it. He seemed to be glaring past me at Shane, but from this distance and with the sun to his back, I couldn't really tell. He hopped into his truck and revved the engine.

I walked into the RV and was given the chance to meet the survivors I hadn't got the chance to meet yet. There was a blond woman who introduced herself as Andrea. Then there was Rick's family. His wife, Lori, and their son Carl. He was a very sweet kid. Then there was Carol and her daughter Sophia. There was a man named T-dog who seemed really friendly. Shane wasn't there, he was riding in his Jeep up ahead.

When I was done being introduced to, I sat at a table/bench with Deeno and Glenn.

I spotted an acoustic guitar rested against the counter.

"Someone here play?" I asked Glenn, nodding to the guitar.

"No, Dale found it on the highway thinking someone might know how to play, but it turns out no one here has a musical bone in their body," Glenn explained.

"Well, now you do. You've got a musical genius right here," Deeno said, pointing down at my head.

I blushed and muttered, "I'm not a musical genius."

Glenn stood from the table and went to pick the guitar up.

"Oh please," Deeno continued. "What do you do in the musical field?"

I scowled at him. "I play the guitar, trumpet, and piano."

"Annnd-?" Deeno said, giving me a smug look.

"And I sing." I sighed.

Glenn held the guitar out to me.

"Let's hear something."

He took his seat back on the opposite side of the table, facing the front of the RV. As Deeno moved to sit beside Glenn and give the guitar room for its neck, I couldn't help but compare my seat as "facing Daryl".

Shaking my head, I tried to call to mind one of the songs I knew how to play. I decided on Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day (one of my all-time favorite bands).

When I started playing the first few chords, Sophia and Carl came rushing up. The familiarity of playing soothed my over-worked mind. When I started singing, Rick, Lori, and Carol came to stand behind their children.

"I walk a lonely road. The only road that I have ever known. Don't know where it goes, but its home to me and I walk alone."

The kids were smiling and I could see Glenn grinning to out of the corner of my eye; I kept my eyes on the guitar so I didn't see everyone watching me so I didn't get nervous and screw up.

"I walk this empty street on the boulevard of broken dreams. Where the city sleeps and I'm the only one and I walk alone. I walk alone. I walk alone."

I took the chance during the music break to catch my breath and get ready for the next phrase.

"My shadows the only one that walks beside me. My shallow hearts the only thing that's beatin'. Sometimes I wish someone out there would find me, till then I walk alone…"

I hummed the next part of the song and the kids joined in. I smiled so widely I almost couldn't continue singing. But I did.

"I'm walkin' down the line that divides me somewhere in my mind. On the borderline of the edge and where I walk alone. Read between the lines. What's messed up? And everything's alright. Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive and I walk alone."

The rest of the song was repeats of the chorus and musical interludes, so the kids joined in singing.

When I was done, Carol said, "You have a lovely voice, Jojo."

I smiled up at her. "Thanks. I used to sing this little booger to sleep when we were little," I said, grinning over at Deeno who blushed and looked down sheepishly.

"You're really good at the guitar, too," Glenn said, staring at the guitar like it was his ticket out of this zombie-ridden world. "Could you teach me?"

I smiled. I loved helping people with music stuff. I was really very good with music and if it weren't so dang hard to get a job in the music industry I probably would've ended up there instead of becoming a psychologist.

"Absolutely."


	5. Welcome to Zone 5

DARYL'S POV:

I parked my truck just behind the RV on the curb in front of the CDC. I could see multiple geeks lift their heads in acknowledgement that we were here. I jumped out of the truck with my crossbow across my shoulder and a pickaxe in my hand as I shoved the truck keys in my pocket. I noticed a geek shambling toward me and used an upward swing to, quite literally, knock his block off. I ran over to where the rest of the group was running as a heard up to the guarded door of the CDC.

Rick and Shane had a little spat as the reanimated corpses closed in around us. Me and the other males on the outside guarded the women and children on the inside of our group.

"There's no one in there!" Shane yelled right in Rick's face.

We needed to leave if no one was here. If not, we were all dead meat. Hell, we might already be screwed beyond repair.

"IT MOVED! THE CAMERA MOVED!"

I couldn't hear what else was being said over Rick yelling his pleas to the camera man to let us in.

Finally, the doors opened, releasing the brightest light I had ever seen. We rushed in, making sure no zombies followed us in.

"Watch out for walkers," Dale whispered urgently as the rest of the group aimed their guns at the darkened corners of the front room.

The click of a gun being cocked made everyone snap around and aim for a man in a gray T-shirt and a pair of jeans who was aiming a shotgun at the rest of us.

He didn't lower his gun as he asked, "What do you want?"

Rick hesitated only a second before replying with, "A chance."

The man finally lowered the gun and took a few steps closer. "That's an awful lot to be asking for these days." He ran his eyes over ever worn out, blood-covered, dirt-smeared member of our ragtag group.

"I know." Rick sounded completely hopeless.

Maybe that's what made the doctor give up on what seemed to be a rejection and tell us, "Everyone submits to a blood test, that's the price of admission. Alright?"

Rick nodded. "We can do that."

"If you've got stuff you need to get, get it now. Once those doors close, they won't be opened again."

I, along with several others, ran to the vehicles. I opened the truck doors quickly, grabbing my pack and the one I saw Jojo had left in the passengers seat. Along with her gun. I slung both of our backpacks over my shoulders along with my crossbow and used her gun for protection. I sprinted back to the doors of the CDC. When the doors were closed, we all breathed a sigh of relief.

"Vi, seal the main entrance." We all stared at the man in confusion, but he merely introduced himself to Rick as Doctor Edmond Jenner.

While they were getting the introductions out of the way, I searched for Jojo and made my way to her.

"Hey, you forgot these in my truck."

She looked over at me with gratitude in her features as she took her things back. "Thank you. I forgot I had left them in there until I went to the RV and freaked out because Deeno had his stuff and I couldn't find mine."

I cracked a smirk and then noticed Glenn just in front of me. But there was something odd about him… "Glenn, why're you holdin' a damn guitar?"

He turned around. "I'm learning to play," he explained sheepishly as he shuffled over to where the rest of the group was piling into an elevator.

After the doors closed, I noticed Deeno grab Jojo's hand and give her a reassuring smile. To stop my thoughts from going down that "I wish I were him" path, I said to Jenner, "Doctors always go around packin' heat like that?"

He grinned a bit and said, "Nah, there were plenty laying around; I familiarized myself."

When the elevator made a dinging noise, we all followed the doctor through a short hall with lights. It had been a while since I had seen electric lights. It only took my eyes a second to adjust.

"Are we underground?" Jacqui asked, her arm around Carol's shoulders.

Jenner looked back. "Are you claustrophobic?"

She looked around warily. "A little."

"Try not to think about it."

The hall opened up into a room with no lights on, but I could still see from the light coming in from the hallway. We walked down a slight ramp and then the doctor stopped.

"Vi, bring up the lights in the big room," he called out loudly.

The room lit up a bright white color from the light overheard, circling the room. There were a lot of machines in the room and a large screen that took up the entire front wall.

"Welcome to Zone 5."

Rick followed the doctor over to a desk. "Where is everybody? The other doctors? The staff?"

The Doctor hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I'm it. Its just me here."

Lori spoke up from the back of the group. "What about the person you were speaking with before? Vi?"

"Vi, say hello to our guests Say… Welcome."

A computerized-sounding female voice rang loud and clear. "Hello, guests. Welcome."

A few of the people in the group looked around with teary eyes. We had come all this way hoping to find more survivors and possibly a cure. And we found a lone doctor and his computer. I was surprised to find that i wasn't as mad or sad about that fact as i probably should have been. This whole place was under total lock-down and not a single geek could get in. For now, we were safe. Even if there wasn't a cure.

"I'm all that's left. I'm sorry."


	6. Needles

JOJO'S POV:

We stood in line for the blood test inside what seemed like a classroom. Lori was in the process of getting her blood taken. In front of me were Glenn and Deeno who were engaged in a conversation about some car or another. Behind me was Daryl who said nothing until Lori was done and Dale stepped up to have his blood drawn and I muttered, "Oh God, I hate needles."

I heard a low chuckle come from him and I spun around, half-glaring at him.

"What?"

"The world's gone to hell and you're still scared of needles?"

I frowned. "Yeah, but I'm still afraid of heights, thunder, and rapists, too."

He gave me an amused smile. "Really? Thunder?"

I nodded. "I guess I just kind of retained it from childhood or something."

"Next."

Glenn walked slowly over to the chair in front of Jenner. He paled noticeably when the doctor began getting the needle ready.

"Scared, Chinaman?" Daryl laughed.

I could barely hear Glenn's meek, "I'm Korean." as he turned his head away from us and the needle.

I turned back to Daryl. "What's that?" I asked, my brows furrowing as I focused on a cut on his forehead. Sure we all had gotten our fair share of scrapes and bruises, but this was a pretty deep gash. And it was right next to his temple.

"What?" he asked, not understanding what I was asking about.

"Here," I said quietly as I took a step toward him and reached a hand up so my index and middle fingers hovered just above it. His jaw was clenched tight and his fist were balled. He looked like he was fighting the urge to dash from the room. And I could feel the eyes of everyone else in the room (aside from Doctor Jenner, who was now drawing Deeno's blood) on me and Daryl. I frowned at the puckered, red thing that seemed to still be bleeding.

"Next."

I gulped loudly and jumped, not ready for that stupid needle. I sat slowly in the chair and Deeno stood next to me. He held out his hand and I grasped it, keeping my eyes locked on his.

They were the same as our father's and our little sister's had been. Deep, dark brown with a thick fringe of lashes. His light brown hair was down to the bottom of his neck. I would have to cut that tonight.

Before I knew it, the needle was out of me and Daryl was sitting down in the chair. But he looked like he was going to be sick.

"What's the matter, Daryl?" I asked, smiling sweetly as he avoided watching the needle slide into his dirty forearm.

"I aint scared o' needles, that don't mean I like 'em."

I turned to see everyone staring at Daryl in disbelief. He probably would've blown up at anybody else, but I still had yet to see that side of Daryl Dixon.

I walked to the wall a few feet from the door of the room and sat on the steps beside Deeno. When I looked up, I saw Daryl walking over, rubbing his arm. He stood between me and the door, toting his crossbow as always.

The last person to get their blood drawn was Andrea. She sat in the chair, pouting. "I really don't see the point… if we were infected, we would be running a fever. Why not just check that?"

Jenner gave her an exasperated look and said, "Look, I broke every rule letting you guys in here, just… let me be thorough."

I could respect that. I'm sure we all could. It was getting more and more dangerous to take any kind of risk these days and even the living could be a risk.

Andrea stood from the chair and nearly took a tumble. Thankfully, Jacqui was there to catch her.

"Are you okay?" Jenner asked, staring at her and then the vial of her blood in his hand like he thought she had caught and he was going to catch the virus/disease/whatever-was-turning-everyone-into-mindless-flesh-eating-corpses.

"She hasn't eaten in days. None of us have," Jacqui explained, assisting Andrea over to another chair.

Jenner frowned and said, "Come with me."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry kind of a short chapter, but i have to cut off there for now. Thank you for reading my story and reviewing! :) They are appreciated greatly. **


	7. Cowboy Take Me Away

DARYL'S POV:

The Doc lead us to a room that reminded me of a high school cafeteria, complete with buffet-style glass over a row of tin containers that used to hold food. We all sat at a round table, drinking wine and joking around. Surprisingly enough, I was nice. Well, nice for me.

Carl tried a sip of wine, much to Lori's dismay. But, Rick reasoned, "What would it hurt?" The kiddo took one sip of the stuff and made a face.

"Ewww!" he yelled.

"That's my boy," Lori said, rubbing Carl's back and pouring the rest of the wine left in Carl's glass into her own.

"Stick to your soda-pop there, bud," Shane said, smirking under the cover of his hands.

"Not you, Glenn," I said, pointing at the Asian kid as I poured another glass for myself. "Keep drinkin', little man, I wanna see how red your face can git."

I was surprised to find that everyone laughed at what I had said. And not in a "Oh, that dumb hillbilly" way. More of in a "Wow, that was really funny" way. Or maybe they were just too drunk to understand.

"So, Glenn, I see you brought in that guitar," Dale stated, eyeing the acoustic piece propped up against the chair Glenn was leaned back in.

He blushed slightly. Probably just the flush of alcohol in his young system.

"Yeah. I figured for however long we're going to be in here, I may as well have something to occupy time and now, under the cover of this place, seems like the best time to learn."

My brows drew together. "Gonna teach yerself?" I asked, gulping down on more of the bitter liquid. It may not be a nice cold beer, but it was alcohol and that was good enough for me.

"I'm teaching him." It was Jojo. She was sitting just between Deeno and Glenn.

"You can play?" I asked, my brows shooting up as I watched her eyeing me over the rim of her glass.

"And she can sing," Carol spoke up, smiling over at Jojo who just nodded and blushed.

"Well, let's hear somethin' then, gir'," I said, holding my glass up as everybody cheered and encouraged her to perform.

"Alright, alright," she said, holding her hands up and silencing the crowd. She handed her glass off to Deeno and stood, grabbing the guitar up in her hands. She wrapped the strap around her shoulder and thrummed her fingers along a few random chords as a warm-up. She held her hand up in a fist and coughed onto the side of it. Before she began, she took a deep breath.

Then came out a song that I could've sworn I had heard somewhere before. The musical introduction flowed into the first verse as her voice, soft and smooth washed over us, soothing our ever-worried minds and putting us at ease. Her voice moved easily, lilting wonderfully with the melody she was plucking out of the guitar strings. Her voice was small and innocent and by far the most beautiful thing I had ever heard in my life.

"I said, I wanna touch the earth. I wanna break it in my hands. I wanna grow something wild, and unruly."

She watched the eyes of her spectators, gauging their reaction. Most were to stare in awe. The kids were smiling hugely and Deeno watched his sister, grinning proudly. She moved from one pair of eyes to the next at intervals.

"I wanna sleep on the hard ground in the comfort of your arms. On a pillow of bluebonnets, and a blanket made of stars. Oh, it sounds good to me. Cowboy take me away. Fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue. Set me free, oh, I pray. Closer to heaven above and closer to you."

Her eyes roamed over to where I was standing, awe-struck and silent. Then she near-whispered, "Closer to you."

There was another guitar solo during which she bobbed her head with the beat and watched her fingers move along the neck of the guitar. She swallowed again before continuing with the song.

"I wanna walk and not run. I wanna skip and not fall. I wanna look at the horizon and not see a building standing tall."

Her voice grew in volume and power, captivating everyone even more, even Jenner who thus far had opted out of joining our celebration, settling for sitting back in silence.

"I wanna be the only one, for miles and miles. Except for maybe you and your simple smile. Oh, it sounds good to me. Yes, it sounds so good to me."

She looked up again and this time her eyes didn't leave mine. I don't know if it was because she needed something to focus on as she played and sang, or if she meant to watch me for that long, but it felt right. If that even makes sense. How can staring that long into one person's eyes feel _right_?

"Cowboy take me away. Fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue. Set me free, oh, I pray. Closer to heaven above and closer to you. Closer to you-ou-ou! Closer to you-ou-ou!" Her voice got quieter once more. "I said, I wanna touch the earth. I wanna break it in my hand. I wanna grow something wild and unruly. Oh it sounds so good to me. Cowboy take me away. Fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue. Set me free, oh, I pray. Closer to heaven above and closer to you. Cowboy…take…me…away-y-y."

Her voice reached a pitch so high I didn't think she would make it… but she did.

"Closer to you."

The last few chords of the song ended softly. There was moment of shocked silence before the room erupted in applause.

"That was great!" Jacqui said, patting Jojo on the shoulder as she passed, walking back to her seat.

She set the guitar down beside Dale and began to walk to her chair behind me. As she passed me, she used a hand to push my jaw up. I hadn't realized my mouth was open.

"Close your mouth. You'll catch flies." She didn't stop as she walked passed me.

I shook my head and sat down, pretending to listen as Shane started asking the Doc about more gloom and doom stuff.

I couldn't quite pay attention, though. My thoughts were a bit clouded by images of lightly tanned skin with freckles and hazel eyes that seemed to stare straight through me. To be honest, I had always thought hazel eyes looked creepy. They just didn't seem like the right color for eyes; like making eyes red. They seemed unnatural. But on her they seemed otherworldly.

I looked over to her, mentally shaking myself. Daryl Dixon did not fall for girls like this. Even if they do have pretty eyes.


	8. Thank God for Rednecks

JOJO'S POV:

I couldn't help the way my pulse quickened when I reached up and shut Daryl's mouth for him. Literally.

I blushed and went to take a seat between Deeno and Glenn, both of whom were laughing at absolutely nothing and grinning like idiots.

Yep, definitely drunk. But that didn't stop them from drinking more. I frowned at Deeno. He was only 17. I knew that, now that the end of the world was here, it shouldn't really matter. But I still didn't like it. I didn't do anything to stop him, though; maybe, if he got drunk enough, his first killer hangover would steer him clear of any other alcohol. I could only hope.

Shane started asking about the doctors who weren't there anymore. To which Jenner replied with something about how they took off when things got bad.

But I could only catch bits and pieces of what they were saying through the buzz I had. It was hard to focus on anything, but somehow my eyes managed to focus on Daryl more than once. After about 5 minutes, I would finally realize I had been staring at him. I jerked my attention away.

Jenner led us to a hallway where he told us, "There's a rec room at the end of the hall the kids might like. Just don't plug in the video games, okay?" He turned around, facing us. "If you take a shower, go easy on the hot water."

With that, he walked away, leaving us to our own devices.

Glenn turned around, his eyes bright and his expression ecstatic. "Hot water?" He sounded completely desperate for it.

T-dog turned, chuckling excitedly. "That's what the man said."

Deeno and I made our way to a room and began unloading our belongings. Deeno let me shower first since I'm a girl.

I took a change of clothes into the bathroom and took a good look at myself in the mirror, jumping when I saw the hellish condition I was in. There was dirt stained on every surface of my body, strange patterns marking where sweat had dripped down and merged with the grime. I had blood running down my leg from a cut I had gotten in the woods a few days back. There were a few dark bruises on my side and one on my cheek bone.

I sighed and moved over to the shower, savoring the feel of the hot water. I washed all of the dirt and bad memories from myself, hoping my hair would look better after it had been washed. I even allowed myself to feel a little happy that I was finally able to get properly clean for the first time in a little over two weeks. I got out of the shower with a little bit better outlook on life now that I wasn't covered in muck. But I would still have to settle for letting m hair air-dry.

I came out of the bathroom in a clean pair of jeans (my favorites), and a red and black ensemble. It consisted of a red tank top with a black camisole that had lace on the top and bottom over it and a red, black, and white plaid button-up over it, hanging loosely open. My wet hair was wrapped in a towel on top of my head.

"That's a good look for you," Deeno joked, smirking at my hair wrapped in the towel as his words slurred together.

I rolled my eyes. "Just go take a shower you big doofus."

He consented, only wobbling a bit on his way.

I threw my head over, letting my hair flop over my head as I brushed the underside. When I was done brushing the many tangles out of my long dark hair, I decided to go see what the rest of the group was doing.

I tied the bottom of the plaid over shirt in a knot around my waist. I walked out of the door, heading to the rec room.

The kids were sitting at a table playing chess with Carol watching over them, giving them useful tips. Lori was also sitting on the couch, watching the game. Both of the mothers smiled up at me when I walked in. Lori patted a spot on the couch next to her. I came and sat down by her and we started talking about the kids and how they were doing (or had been doing) in school and what kind of stuff they liked to do. It was really fun to hang out with them.

After a little while, Carol announced, "Alright, kids, its time for bed."

The kids whined a little but they looked sleepy, so their protest was short lived.

"Come on, Carl, you look about ready to fall asleep on your feet." Lori stood from the couch and began towing Carl away.

"Wait!" I called.

They all turned back to me.

"Don't I get a goodnight hug?" I asked the kids, smiling.

They ran over to me, grinning. Sophia gave me a great big hug and then Carl gave me a shy, tentative one during which he blushed deeply. He must have a crush on me, I thought. How cute.

I smiled and watched them walk down the hall back towards their rooms. When they left, I noticed a large shelf with books on it. I walked over, loving the idea of getting to enjoy reading once more. I browsed through the titles, looking for anything with a promising-sounding name.

I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I turned to see Shane leaning against the doorway, a bottle of half-drunken wine in his hand. He was quite obviously drunk.

"Hey," I smiled and then went back to looking through the books.

I could still sense him standing near the doorway and then I heard his feet shuffling closer.

"You need anything?" I asked, turning back to look at him, concerned. He was acting a bit off.

"Just tell me why," he said, his voice cracking. He sounded like he was about to cry.

"Why what? Shane, are you okay?" I turned to set the book down on the shelf, but when I turned back around, Shane was only an inch or two from my face.

"Just tell me why," he repeated. "Why did you do it?"

I gave him a confused look. "Shane, what are you talking about?"

My heart rate quickened. What was the matter with him?

"Why couldn't it have been me? I loved you but then he came back and of course you go running back to him and-"

"Shane," I interrupted.

But he placed a hand over my mouth and said, "Just listen."

I gave him a fearful look and back up into the bookshelf. What was he doing?

"I cant stop thinking about you, Lori."

Wait… What? I'm not Lori. Of course I couldn't really tell him that, his forceful hand over my mouth prevented it. And even if I had told him, I doubted he would've listened; people do crazy things when their drunk.

"I love you. You used to tell me you loved me. And I know you still do. I know you love me," he started moving closer.

He grabbed the edge of my pants and started trying to undo them.

"Shane! Shane stop it!" I cried, trying to kick and failing when he grabbed my leg and forced it up by his side. "Shane! Quit it!"

I struggled against him, making it at least a bit more difficult for him to undo the button. I clawed at his face, leaving 3 large blood trails down his neck.

He stumbled back, the pain cutting through his drunken haze for just long enough.

I fell my knees too weak to hold me up. I cowered on the floor as he began to rear up again.

"You bitch!" He stepped forward, raising his hand to smack me across the face.

"Don't touch her!" I heard a familiar twang command.

Shane hesitated, confused. He turned around, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Daryl was standing in the doorway, crossbow in hand and aimed at Shane's head.

I felt tears running down my face.

Thank God for rednecks.


	9. Ankle Pains

DARYL'S POV:

"Get away from her."

Shane just smirked a bit at me. "What're you gonna do if I don't?"

I pulled back the arrow in the slot of my crossbow, letting the sound of it getting cocked be the threat. "Step the fuck away from her," I growled, my teeth clenched.

Shane looked down at the ground and then charged at me, his reflexes fast for a drunk guy. Faster than I was expecting. He caught me off guard and knocked the crossbow out of my hands. It skidded under a table and he pulled his arm back, getting ready to punch me square in the jaw.

Luckily I held my liquor better than him. I dodged under his arm and wrapped my arms under his armpits and grabbed the back of his head, holding him there. It was the same way he had held me down when I was told about Merle… I brushed aside the eerie familiarity of the situation and kicked the back of Shane's knees, bringing him down.

"Get the hell outta here," I said, throwing him onto the floor.

He scrambled up and ran off down the hall, glaring back at me every so often. I turned back to Jojo when I was sure Shane had really gone.

"You alrigh'?" I asked, holding a hand out to her.

She nodded, wiping away a few tears from her cheeks as she took my offered hand and stood.

I felt my heart beat a little faster when our hands made contact.

When she got up, I tried to help her over to the couch, but I guess Shane had hurt her leg because she almost fell. I turned and caught her around the waist before she could fall onto the floor again. She was so small against my chest. She looked up, her eyes still a bit teary. My chest convulsed inwardly.

"You okay?" I whispered, helping her back up but wishing we could've stayed there all night.

"Yeah. I tried to kick at Shane once but he grabbed my leg and pulled it. I guess he twisted my ankle or something." She sniffed and wiped at her eyes again.

"Come on." I pulled her over to the couch and made her lay back on the cushion propped up against the arm. "Lemme see it," I said, pulling her right leg up onto my lap. I pushed the bottom of her jeans up only far enough for me to see her ankle. "Looks a little swollen. I could wrap it for ya if ya want." I looked up.

She nodded. "Sure."

"Come on, we gotta get to my room." I slid my arms under her legs and her back and lifted her from the couch. I guess the movement surprised her because she kind of jumped and wrapped her arms around my neck, holding on for dear life and looking down at the couch in horror, as if it was the biggest height in the world. I chuckled. "I know you said you's afraid of heights, but damn."

She frowned. "Well, it could just be because I'm about a jillion feet shorter than you." She pouted.

Apparently she didn't like how short she was. I thought it was kind of cute. Both her pouting and her height (or lack thereof).

Wait… What? I don't think things are cute. I'm a Dixon.

I scowled at the thought and began walking down the hallway toward my room. When we reached the door, she leaned over and opened it. I carried her over to the couch and sat her down there as I went to look through my bag for medical supplies.

"So, Mr. Dixon, what did you do before all this?"

I didn't glance up from my bag as I answered, "Worked on houses. What about you?"

She sighed. "I was a psychology major in college. I wanted to become a psychiatrist. But, unfortunately there wasn't much of a high demand for one in Texas. So I did random things to make money."

I chuckled a bit, my mind processing that a completely different way.

"Not like that!" she said, laughing.

"A-ha." I mumbled, grabbing the wrapping tape from the bag and going over to sit on the table in front of the couch. I motioned to her foot and she put it on my leg. I set to work wrapping her ankle.

"So, umm, listen," she started, sounding a little awkward.

I look up, pausing in my work. "Yeah?"

She fumbled with the edge of the over-shirt. "I would appreciate it if we could keep what happened with Shane just between the three of us. Okay?"

I didn't understand why, but I nodded.

"Thanks." There was a moment of silence before she softly asked, "Can we keep talking?"

I gave her a confused look. "Sure, why?"

She looked up, her eyes sleepy. "Because I'm half-drunk and tired and I don't wanna just crash in your room."

"Oh." I frowned slightly as her head fell back to rest against the back of the couch. She closed her eyes. "Tell me 'bout your brother," I said, figuring keeping her talking would keep her awake better than listening.

She gave a small laugh. "I still remember the day he was born." I could hear the smile in her voice. "I was 7 and me and my dad were standing outside the hospital room where my mom was asleep. We went to the place with the glass window where you look at all the newborns. Dad pointed to one and said, 'That ones your baby brother.' I remember thinking 'They all look the same.' Mom and dad didn't choose a name for him for about 2 weeks. We just called him Baby. I'm actually the one that named him. I was watching the Flintstones and Dino started barking and I could've sworn I heard 'Baby' barking just like him. So I called him Deeno. It just kinda stuck. Mom and dad didn't wanna name him after a cartoon dinosaur, though, so we spelled it different. D-E-E-N-O instead of D-I-N-O."

I chuckled.

"Now you tell me something about your brother."

That stopped my chuckling. I frowned.

"Not much to tell really. He purty much raised me. Dad was always in 'n out of the pen. Mom was never there. He was always real tough. But that made me tough. Now he's gone. You're all done."

She pulled her leg off my lap and leaned forward. "He's still out there," she said, leaning on her elbows which were on her knees.

"What?" I asked, taken aback by her comment.

"If he's so tough, he's still out there. You'll find him." She stood and walked to the door, then she turned around and came back over to where I was still sitting on the table, flabbergasted. She leaned close and kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you, Daryl," she whispered in my ear. Then she turned and left the room.

What the hell just happened?


	10. Rec Room Sleepover

JOJO'S POV:

The ordeal with Shane had scared me quite a bit, but Daryl helping me afterwards, plus the buzz I was still on, made that fear less significant.

I stepped out of Daryl's room, head still reeling. Why had I kissed him? I blamed it on the alcohol.

"Jojo? What were you doing in Daryl's room?" came a familiar voice.

I turned to see Glenn, wobbling a bit on his way down the hallway.

I held my leg up. "He was fixing me up." I motioned to the bandage around my ankle.

"What'd you do?" Glenn asked suspiciously. He was drunk, he shouldn't be able to pay attention to one thing for that long!

"I think I got a little too friendly with our dear hosts liquor cabinet. I stumbled around a little and somehow ended up on the ground with this thing." I once again pointed at my ankle.

Being a psychiatrist, I was a very good liar; I understood exactly what made people think that someone was lying. So I avoided it. Even if I had been a bad liar, Glenn wouldn't have noticed. He was too drunk.

He nodded and continued stumbling along, singing something about coconuts.

I shook my head, but when the headache afterward made me dizzy, I scowled and walked somewhat drunkenly to my room.

Deeno was passed out on the couch. I grimaced and decided I may as well just go sleep on the couch in the rec room.

I grabbed a pillows and a blanket from a cabinet in the bathroom and walked out the door. I stumbled to the couch, the alcohol finally really setting in and screwing with my senses. After I took the over shirt off, leaving me in just the two tank tops, I laid back on the couch, pulling the blanket up around me.

I felt something small and hard under me. I lifted myself up and saw a pocket knife just under my legs. Must be Daryl's. He must've dropped it when we sat here earlier. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I would return it to him later.

I lay there for a few minutes before I finally started to drift off.

But just before I completely sank into unconsciousness, I heard a voice say, "Th' fuck?"

I may have responded to this voice, but I don't remember the conversation; I was already mostly asleep.

DARYL'S POV:

After Jojo left, I started getting ready for bed.

I took a shower, loving the feel of finally being clean again and not smelling like one of the geeks. All of the dirt and sweat was gone from my face, hair, arms, everywhere. My hair was finally the color it should be. A dark blond. It wasn't supposed to be that nearly brown color it had been lately. My blue eyes seemed to be lighter, too.

I changed into a pair of jeans and left the shirt off. I walked out of the bathroom, using one hand holding a towel to rub at the back of my wet hair, on a cloud of steam. How I loved hot water.

Then I remembered something. I looked and looked for it, but it was gone. It wasn't in the pair of jeans I had been wearing before and I was sure I had put them in that pocket. Maybe my pocket knife fell out somewhere in the scuffle with Shane.

I exited my room, not bothering to put a shirt on.

When I came to the rec room, I saw something wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Jojo. She had taken off the plaid over shirt from before and was now in just the red and black tank tops.

I felt my face heat up. "Th' fuck?" I said.

She mumbled a, "Deeno stole the couch." Her words were slurred.

"Why're ya out here? Shane could come back an' try at ya 'gain." I reprimanded her.

"Don't care. Too tired." She seemed to be talking in her sleep almost.

I stood right next to her head. "Well, alrigh'. I'm goin' back to ma room then."

Just as I turned to go back to my room, her hand shot out and caught mine.

"Wait."

I turned, confused. Both at why she wanted me to wait and why I was so nervous at the mere touch of this girl.

"Wha'?"

She took a deep breath, her eyes still closed. "Stay." She was practically whispering.

I leaned closer, hoping to catch more of what she said.

"Here. With me. Please."

I almost wanted to say no. I knew what others would think if they came in here and saw this.

But I didn't care. I said it was for her own safety. In case Shane came back and found her here alone. But really, I did it just for the sheer pleasure of doing it.

I nodded hesitantly. Then I climbed over the back of the couch and right between her and the back of the couch. I laid my head down on the back of the pillow she was on.

She yawned and rolled over, facing me. She threw her arm around my waist, pulling the covers over me with her.

I jumped a bit at the feel of her arm on my bare skin.

She sighed a little and lifted her other hand up and rested in on my chest. Just over my heart. I shivered at her touch.

She leaned her forehead against my chest and her breathing slowed. She was asleep.

I rested my cheek on the top of her head. Just before I passed out in the arms of a girl I hardly knew, I felt my arm moving, almost as if of its own volition, to wrap around her waist and pull her closer.


	11. Jerk

JOJO'S POV:

I woke up and felt something beside me. I made the mistake of thinking it was my pillow from back home. I grabbed it tighter and snuggled my face into it.

But wait… Pillows aren't that hard. And they don't hug back. And they don't yawn!

My eyes opened wide. What had I done last night?

I looked up, trying my best not to move too much.

Daryl was laying beside me, one of his arms wrapped around my waist under me and the other over my shoulder, holding the back of my head. His eyes were still closed and his breathing indicated the deep state of unconciousness he was still under.

I really wanted to pull away (Okay, no I didn't) but I couldn't bring myself to. He was so warm in the cold rec room and he was really very comfortable for as muscled as he was. I put my head back against his chest and continued to listen to his steady heart beat. I started to drift off once more when his breathing became a little more uneven.

"Psst." He whispered. "You 'wake?"

"Yeah," I whispered back, staying perfectly still.

What did we do now? Get up and go to our own rooms and pretend like nothing happened?

"I'm not," he snorted.

"How can you not be awake? You're talking."

He closed his eyes and started fake snoring.

"Too tired. Need more sleep."

He sounded like he seriously meant it and I wouldn't have minded a little more sleep either, so I curled up against his large muscled chest once more and closed my eyes.

"What in the world?" I heard from the doorway to the rec room.

I shot up, staring into the eyes of Glenn.

"Glenn." I said, mortified. If he was thinking what I thought he was thinking- "No, nothing happened!" I said, standing from the couch.

Glenn was flushed and hung-over and looked a little mad. Daryl was supposedly the jackass of the group and I was Deeno (his new best friend's) sister, that probably pissed him off.

"Why you explainin' to him? Aint like its any o' his business." Daryl asked from the couch, still half-asleep.

I glance at him, wondering what his problem with Glenn was. I looked back at Glenn apologetically. For what I wasn't sure.

Glenn waved it off, turning away. "He's right. Its none of my business." And he walked away down the hall.

"Firs' time he's ever listened to me." Daryl muttered.

"Why are you such a jerk to him?" I asked, grabbing my shirt and getting ready to go back to my room.

Daryl just opened his eyes and gave me a calculating look. He never answered, so I scoffed and walked off down the hallway back towards my room, ignoring the way his blue eyes, gorgeous smirk, and perfectly chiseled chest and arms called me back to him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry about that, but this is another REALLY short chapter guys. But i will try to make up for it with a little more action, drama, and fluffy stuff with Jojo and everybody's favorite zombie-hunting redneck! :D **


	12. Falling Fast

DARYL'S POV:

I knew I shouldn't be so mean to Glenn. Btu it was just the way I was. Sure he had never actually done anything wrong by me, and hell, he even came with me on our expedition through Atlanta to save Merle when everyone else wad written him off as a lost cause. But something about him made me want to be a douche to him. Plucky little bastard.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes and wishing I had brought my shirt; damn that girl was cold. I tucked one of my hands under my arm and blinked to clear the haze of sleep from my vision. I reached my room and began rummaging through my things, thinking about the girl once again.

Maybe I should just stop hanging around her and thinking about her so much. Maybe I'd avoid her, that should keep her off my mind. She was having some effects on me that I wasn't sure I wanted. I was going soft! So maybe avoiding her was the way to go. Never mind the fact that sleeping with her in my arms had been the one night since the walkers took over that I hadn't had a nightmare.

I know what you're thinking. "Daryl Dixon having nightmares? Surely not!" But its true. I might act the part of an unfeeling redneck, but I was human, too. And ever since Merle went missing, the nightmares had only worsened. Even if she did keep my nightmares away, I had to do this; it was for my own good.

Hell, it was for her good, too. Surely at least Shane would be relieved she wasn't going to wind up with me: some no-account hillbilly who was likely to turn her into just another beaten up white trash woman who say on a rickety porch watching all her little inbred babies run around playing with stick 'coz we were too poor to afford real toys.

But that's not how it would be. I have never hit a woman in my life and I didn't plan on starting now in the middle of an apocalypse. I hated seeing women get hit by men. And I wasn't gonna make her have a bunch of hillbilly babies.

Wait… What was I ever thinking? I hardly knew the girl and I was thinking of ways to defend the future we could have together?

I shook my head in agitation and pulled a shirt over my shoulders, buttoning it up with frozen fingers; that rec room really was cold. The shirt I picked out had the sleeves ripped off (just like every other one) and stretched tight over my chest.

I made my way down to the kitchen area where everyone (including Jojo) were already seated.

Glenn muttered some things about not letting him drink ever again. After he was done with his mini-rant, he fixed a glare on me which no one but me saw.

I fixed myself a cup of coffee and poured more liquor into it.

The doctor walked into the kitchen.

Dale spoke up then, "Doctor, I don't mean to ask a bunch of questions so early in the morning, but-"

The doctor shook his head. "I understand. Follow me." He began walking out of the room.

I noticed Glenn grab the guitar and take it with him. I rolled my eyes. What in the hell would he need a guitar for?

I followed suit and walked out, trailing after the rest of the group. I tried to keep my eyes from wandering to the back of a girl I spent the night with.

The Doc lead us to the room with all the computers again. He showed us a bunch of videos of the inside of a brain that had the virus and was shot. All I really gathered from it was exactly how the virus worked on the inside. But then when you're surrounded by those walkers, the zombification process isn't gonna matter a whole lot.

The doctor left us feeling kind of bitter and depressed as we walked somberly to our rooms.

I bumped into Jojo by accident on my way down the hall and made the mistake of looking down into her hazel eyes. I was caught for a moment.

"Umm… Sorry." I mumbled, trying my hardest to drag my gaze away. Eventually it worked and I could feel her confused stare follow me all the way down the hallway.

When I got to my room, I took out a bottle of wine and popped the top off, taking a long slow swig of the bitter stuff. I sighed and banged my head on the wall.

I was falling fast and hard and I wasn't sure I could catch myself before I hit the ground.


End file.
